Crash Into Me(21)

He extended his hand to offer me a seat on the extra deep sofa and handed me my drink. I took a sip from my glass and felt the warmth from the liquor course through my body. Surprised by its almost instant effect, I looked at him and murmured, "Oh. What is this?"

"Scotch."

For the first time since I'd met him in that alley way, his body relaxed as he sat next to me. Maybe it was the double Lagavulin he had in his hand or maybe it was that we were finally getting to know one another. Whatever it was, he wore relaxed well.

By the time my glass was half empty, my drink had definitely relaxed me, and my curiosity got the better of me, along with my inhibitions. I looked at him sitting there in his white dress shirt and dark suit and without thinking, I asked, "Why are you always in a suit and tie?"

His eyes grew slightly wider for just a moment, and then he was that relaxed man again. "You don't like me like this?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Oh no, I didn't mean that," I answered, afraid that I'd offended him. "I like you very much like that."

Now his smile wasn't that warm grin I'd seen just a few minutes earlier but a mischievous, almost devilish one. He took a sip of his drink and slid his tongue across his lower lip, making it glisten.

"Maybe you're right. It wouldn't hurt for me not to wear a tie," he said as he began to unknot it. Slipping it from around his neck, he let it slide out of his hand onto the table in front of us. "And no tie means I don't need the top button done either."

He opened his shirt and with just one button undone he looked like an entirely different man. His dress shirt sat crisply and the collar framed his strong neck perfectly. I had to fight the urge to lean over and press my lips to the part that had been covered by the shirt and tie and slide my tongue up over his Adam's Apple. What would his skin taste like, I wondered? Would it taste like the soap he used or the cologne he wore or would it have a hint of salt as a man's skin often did?

Nervous and needing a distraction, I leaned forward to take the deep blue silk tie off the table. Running it through my fingers, I asked, "How do you tie a tie? I never learned."

He placed his glass on the table and slid the tie from my hands. "Come. Sit between my legs and I'll show you."

I stood and turned to see him spread his legs wider to accommodate me. Nervous but suddenly desperate to be close to him, I sat down in front of him but on the edge of the couch, unsure of myself.

"Move back."

I did as he commanded and moved back until my shoulders touched his chest. Sitting ramrod straight, I waited for him to begin, anticipating how wonderful it would feel as his hands slid around my neck.

He leaned forward and moved my hair over to one shoulder. "The first thing is to make sure all of this is out of the way."

My neck was exposed, and as he spoke, his warm breath danced across my skin. I closed my eyes and willed my body to relax, hoping he couldn't hear my heart nearly pounding through my chest.

His voice was low and husky in my ear. "Lean back against me, Nina."

I slowly let myself fall back against him, feeling his hard chest against my back. His head was next to mine, his mouth positioned next to my ear so I felt every breath he took in and let out.

"The first thing to know is that there's only one kind of knot you need to master. The Windsor knot."

"Oh. I thought there were others," my voice squeaked out.

"Maybe for boys, but men tie the Windsor knot."

The way he said the word 'men' made my stomach flutter. In truth, I'd probably dated more boys than men, but Tristan Stone was definitely a man.